


Starbucks

by PursuitOfDiscovery



Series: Two Hundred and Twenty One Baker Streets [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Sherlock, College AU, Fluff, M/M, Med Student John, Stanford University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:54:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3248714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PursuitOfDiscovery/pseuds/PursuitOfDiscovery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock and John are students with a taste for Starbucks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starbucks

“One Raspberry Cheesecake Mocha Frappuccino? Ugh, find the secret menu, did he?” Ellen called.

“Well, yeah, I think so.” John replied. He was mentally berating himself for not asking the stranger more than just his name. He sent shivers through John just by looking at him with those strange eyes.

Ellen paused. “I think the recipes might be under the counter.” Damn. John thought she would make the order for him. Oh well. He went back to the counter.

“It’s coming right up sir, will take a few minutes, that’s all.” John told the stranger (Sherlock, was it?) cheerfully.

He turned a thoughtful gaze towards John, before nodding. He went back to reading his…his textbook? Huh. Must be a student, like me, John thought.

“Where are you studying?” John asked him. “I’m a medical student, going to Stanford.”

Sherlock widened his eyes and replied, his voice soft, unlike the sharp cut of his cheekbones.   
“I’m enrolled in an art course. In AU.”

“Oh wow. Mind if you show me some of your work some other time maybe?” John offered. Sherlock seemed like a shy guy; John was going to do everything he could to get him to go out with John.

Sherlock nodded, then realising what John had said, he quickly shook his head and smiled at him.

“That’s great.” John said softly.

“Excuse me, _John_ , do you not have an order to tend to?” Ellen was fuming by his side.

Well shit. Sherlock smirked.

Huh.

Guess that was kinda worth it.

***

Sherlock came back to Starbucks regularly after that, normally ordering the same thing, until John coaxed him to try something different, broaden his taste palates. It took some convincing but Sherlock finally relented.

John looked forward every time Sherlock came down to the café. He struck him as a shy guy, but every time John spoke to him, he opened up a little. And even that little bit stirred something deep inside him.

For one, Sherlock was observant as hell. He told him about some of the people in the café, their life story, their hobbies, their personality. It amused them both, guessing and deducing things, although Sherlock was definitely better than John. For another, he had the most beautiful hands John had seen, fragile and delicate but with such a strong grasp. Sometimes, he brought along his sketchbook, drawing something or another while he prepared his order. And sometimes, he would even show it to John, ducking his head in embarrassment.

They were beautiful and expressive, and John, not having created anything in his life, was completely taken away.

And with each passing day, he fell for him, unrelenting in his love for this mysterious man.

***

It was the first day of spring, when Sherlock came in. John took one look at him and burst out laughing.

Sherlock scowled.

The AU was known for holding costume days at the start of every season, simply to mark the time while allowing for a bit of harmless fun. John had seen it all, the crazy, the insane, the beautiful, the sophisticated and the outright _no_. Or he had thought he had seen it all.

Then there was Sherlock.

It had taken a moment for him to try and figure out what the hell he had dressed up as.

It was a fucking _bee._

John was grinning widely when Sherlock approached the counter, still scowling.

“My niece convinced me to wear this.” He said, furiously pointing at his costume.

John didn’t believe a word of it.

“Does your _niece_ know how amazing you look in that? Because I could definitely dig that, _honey_.” John tried to stifle his giggling, but to no avail. Sherlock looked at him.

“Do you like it?” Ah, always to the point. Goddamnit Sherlock.

“I think you look freaking adorable.” John said softly. “Anyone who says otherwise can come and see me. I’d happily rip them some new assholes.” He remarked cheerfully.

“Thank you.” He replied, softly as ever that John almost missed it.

“Now would you like some _honey_ to go with this BEEautiful Frappuccino. ‘Cos you wouldn’t BEElieve how good it tastes.” John teased, laughing. Sherlock scowled, glaring pointedly, but the spark was back in his eyes.

Shaking his head, John went back to preparing the order. Before handing it to him though, he thought. John had been working out how to approach Sherlock for a date and was yet to ask him out. He didn’t want to rush the guy, but he had waited long enough.

Smiling, he wrote on the cup.

***

­­­­­­­ _Why did you write your number on my coffee? -SH_

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me; they're BBC's works of fiction.  
> This is my first attempt at fan fiction; do not hesitate to comment/criticise.


End file.
